


Concealed and Cold

by briggs



Series: A Version of Events [2]
Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, and his first reaction is to go to philip, does this count as fluff?, good one lukas, i'm sad let me stick my hand down your pants, is lukas drunk or is he just genuinely breaking down, maybe?????, someone yell at me for writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8646940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briggs/pseuds/briggs
Summary: They both just need a break for once. It's been hell, and Philip and Lukas are tired. Can anyone blame them for instinctively gravitating toward each other for comfort?ORWhat I think happened in between episodes near the beginning of season one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this as a second chapter to the first fic in this series, but then I realized that's not what this is, so if you've already read this once I'm sorry. this is more of a collection of one-shots i've written, a collection of events i think have taken place either before, after, or during episodes that we didn't see. 
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy, and there's a third fic in this series coming soon!!
> 
> (title taken from Easy by Son Lux)

It’s not easy, obviously.  
  
They’re in one place, they don’t move, they don’t dare, but deep down they both know they’re on the run. Someone survived that night in the cottage, someone other than them, and he’s looking.

Philip has already caused the death of two of his classmates simply by keeping Lukas’ secret. It’s becoming the first romance with a body count, and honestly, Philip isn’t sure how much longer he can force himself not to say anything. He’d do his best to spare Lukas’ reputation, maybe say he went up to the cottage alone, but -- God, he knows Lukas would never speak to him again. All the progress they’ve made would be out the window.  
  
It’s emotionally exhausting. They’re in a position that doesn’t give them much choice, and the only person they have to rely on is each other. Philip wouldn’t be surprised if Lukas wasn’t sleeping well because honestly, he isn’t either.

They’re in this together, only them. If it’s not them-against-the-world in their relationship, it sure is in life.

There are innocent people dying because of Lukas’ family. Philip refuses to pin the blame on Lukas himself, at least not solely -- it’s clear the birds and the bees have been instilled in him as the only “right” thing since he was a kid, and to deviate with two bees? It’s unheard of. It’s blasphemous, and it would earn Lukas more than just a slap on the wrist.  
  
No, his internalized homophobia is not his own fault. If he’s willing to try and survive against a murderer alone instead of merely _risk_ the chance of someone finding out, there has to be something else wrong with the situation.

The only one with real blood on their hands is the murderer, and that’s the top priority. In the meantime, they need to lie low, count their blessings. Move towns, if possible. Up and leave and never come back, move to different cities, never speak to each other again.  
  
But at this point, Philip isn’t sure that would be possible for them.

It’s a Friday night when Lukas taps lightly on Philip’s window at two a.m, his face pained and something unidentifiable in his eyes.  
  
Philip is justifiably confused, for a moment, about how the _hell_ Lukas managed to get to his window on the second floor, until he remembers there’s a tree directly beside. It’s a wonder Philip doesn’t knock anything over or fall flat on his face running to the window to open it and let Lukas in.  
  
Even before he opens the window, Philip can see Lukas’ face.  
  
His eyebrows are knit together, eyes distraught, mouth hanging open a little as he looks around his shoulder frantically. When Philip finally opens the window, it’s as if he’s the only thing Lukas can see, and he slips into the room without tearing his eyes from Philip’s gaze. There’s barely a moment to breathe, much less a moment to say anything before Lukas is grasping desperately onto Philip’s sweater, and then the shirt underneath, looking back up into his eyes. He’s pleading, without saying anything, and it’s then that Philip realizes he doesn’t really have to -- he’s trying to pull Philip closer without seeming too pathetic, but God, Philip doesn’t care.

He brings Lukas in, his hands shifting from Lukas’ arms up to his jaw, and he brings him down just slightly so it’s easier to kiss him. His mouth is warm, his lips soft like always, and when they pull away probably slower than they ever have before, Philip finally notices what was unidentifiable in Lukas’ expression.

He’s crying. Just a tear or two, his eyes wet, but there’s no redness that Philip can see in Lukas’ face. It’s just a very calm breakdown, and it’s not long before Lukas’ chest is spasming with silent sobs that must stay that way for fear of Helen or Gabe hearing them. He digs his face into the nook connecting Philip’s neck and his shoulder, just breathing, trying not to cry harder than he already is, and Philip decides that he doesn’t _have_ to fight the urge to run a hand through Lukas’ hair.

It’s a while before Lukas’ breathing into his neck turns into Lukas’ pressing a small, very tentative kiss to the skin there, but it makes Philip’s head go wild, if only because he wasn’t expecting it. Lukas grips Philip’s hips, his fingers pressing into sensitive skin and thumbing up the edge of his shirt before sliding, underneath Philip’s sweater and on the edge of his shirt, around to his back and resting in the small of his spine.

“Lukas, we don’t have to--” Philip starts, because he doesn’t want Lukas to think they have to do anything. They can just be casual, they can just sit there, or lie in Philip’s bed, or sleep and cry or cry then sleep or -- or anything.

But Lukas just replies, incredibly quiet, “Shhh. I-- I want to.”

When he tugs Philip closer, their torsos meeting down to the waist, it’s mostly confident, but it’s slow. He pulls Philip in and breathes in at the same time, and they’re not even kissing they’re just -- just breathing at the same time, their foreheads pressed together, lips ghosting just slightly. Lukas slides his hands down just slightly, dipping the fingers of one hand down the back of waistband of Philip’s pants while the other hand stays over the pants, going further down Philip’s ass and grabbing. He grabs, pulls up and in, and Philip just gasps with him, and then they’re kissing again and it’s faster, more heated, more desperate than before.

Lukas takes his hands off Philip’s ass to push his shoulders back onto his bed and Philip can’t help laughing a little at Lukas’ confidence, smirking. Lukas grins in return, whispers “You suck,” with a laugh and follows Philip down onto the bed. He falls on top, his hands on either side of Philip’s head just above his shoulders, and lowers himself slowly down against Philip’s body.

He kisses Philip, gently at first and then less so, licking into Philip’s mouth with a certain determination he’s lacked so far, whether because of fear or hesitance or inexperience -- he’s got it now. “You’re very eager,” Philip whispers to him, hands working their way up into Lukas’ hair, pulling him back down.

“Shut up,” Lukas whisper-laughs in return, grinding down into Philip’s hip to prove his point. He kisses the side of Philip’s jaw, and then down into his neck.

Philip smirks, his mouth in the perfect position to whisper into Lukas’ ear. “Make me,” he breathes, and he feels Lukas still over him.

“Oh, it’s on, Shea.” Lukas backs up, standing up while Philip lies back on the edge of the bed. He bends down, picking up Philip’s legs so Lukas’ hips are in between his knees while Philip watches with a clever smile, challenging. “It’s on,” Lukas says again, before lowering himself down onto Philip again, this time Philip’s legs on either side of his waist. Philip’s legs cling onto his ribs while Lukas grinds into the perfect angle of Philip’s ass, and even though they’re both still clothed, Philip knows Lukas has won. He has successfully been shut up, and that point is only proven further when Lukas kisses him again, moving in a rhythm, and it becomes almost painfully clear that they’re both hard in their jeans.

They’re breathless when they pull apart, Lukas immediately going for Philip’s pants, but Philip can only remember what Lukas looked like when he came in through the window not fifteen minutes ago. Tired, wrecked, wired, clearly upset. Shaken, even crying a little. “Lukas, hey,” he says, softly, “you don’t -- c’mon. It’s okay.”

Lukas seems focused, shakes his head, kisses Philip again but it’s more forced and he’s still trying to unbuckle Philip’s pants, and it’s just… he can’t take it.

“Lukas, c’mon, it’s okay. Shhh, just… just c’mere,” Philip tries again, and Lukas relaxes. Philip crawls backward up to his headboard where his pillows are, inviting Lukas to come with him. “Let’s just… let’s just sit.”

He does crawl to the top of the bed to join Philip, though it’s slow, and now that they’re not focused in a heated moment, Lukas seems like he could break at any moment. Philip’s still kind of hard, which is both irritating and distracting, but he ignores it in favour of focusing on how Lukas must feel.

Philip slides down on the bed, turning toward Lukas, and opens his arm up for Lukas to scooch in closer. He doesn’t seem to hesitate, like maybe he’s focusing on what that actually means, just moves in closer and rests his head on Philips chest, throwing an arm over to grip his waist.

He’s only there for a second before Lukas seems to try to back up, stand up, leave, anything, but Philip just shushes him. “Hey, it’s okay, no one can see us. Just -- relax, okay? Jesus.”

Lukas does, he breathes in and out again and does seem to relax, shoving his face into Philip’s chest. “I- I’m terrified, Philip, God, I’m so scared.”

“I know,” Philip hums, and he’s glad he doesn’t hesitate to run his hands through Lukas’ hair again and then rub his hand down his back. “It’s okay.”  
  
“Is it, Philip? Cause it-- it doesn’t feel like it. Everything’s going to hell, and I don’t know what to do, and I think -- I think I’m the reason Tommy’s dead, and what does that say about me, huh? I basically killed a guy because my pride is so big, how is that okay? And now we’re going to die, and right before that my dad’s going to kill me because he’s bound to find out I’m-- I’m like, you know, into guys, and I’m tired, I’m just--”

Philip kisses him, softly, because he doesn’t know what else to do or say. All of Lukas’ fears are legitimate, and most of them are fears Philip has too. “It’s okay,” he says as he pulls away, replacing his hand back on Lukas’ back. “We’ll get through it.” 

The moon shines in the window, almost reaching the foot of the bed, and Philip can’t help himself from kissing the top of Lukas’ head.

Eventually Lukas falls asleep, and Philip lets him. He sets an alarm for two hours before school the next day so that Lukas can wake up in time to sneak back into his own house, and then he lets himself fall asleep too.

  
They stay there, curled up with each other until morning, breathing each other in. And for a while, everything is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! if you've already read it once, thanks for reading again!! if this is your first time, i hope you enjoyed it. please leave comments and criticism, i love hearing it and it really helps to know what you guys think!!
> 
> feel free to contact me on tumblr: grimegarage.tumblr.com


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